


Ruins

by SeraBee



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:35:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27746842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeraBee/pseuds/SeraBee
Summary: Fragments of Vanessa's POV because I can't commit the time to anything more. A plot may emerge.
Relationships: Charity Dingle/Vanessa Woodfield
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	Ruins

“Mummy, you look like a snowman… I mean, a snow woman,” Johnny giggles as he peers up at his mum from beneath his woolly hat.

He isn’t wrong. She’s pretty sure that she’s broken her own record for how many layers of knitwear it is possible to wear at once, but it can’t be helped. For the first time, temperatures have dipped below 0 and after losing weight through treatment, Vanessa has found herself even more susceptible to the cold than usual. She had dug out her chunkiest scarf, thickest gloves and woolliest hat for the walk to school that morning, but she was still shivering.

She playfully tugs at the little gloved hand clasped in her own and he giggles again. The sound warms her a little.

Johnny’s new school is just a few streets away from her mum’s house, but with the blistering cold wind pinching her cheeks, the short walk is beginning to feel more like a marathon.

“So Johnny, what do you want Santa to get you for Christmas this year?” she asks, hoping a little bit of Christmas enthusiasm will distract her from the fact that she can no longer feel her toes or fingers.

When she’s met with only silence, she looks down to find her five year old son deep in thought. Most other children his age would have gotten through half of the Argos catalogue’s toy section by now, but not Johnny. No matter the question, he always gives his answer serious consideration before he speaks.

She doesn’t rush him and they continue on to the end of the street, the frosted pavements crunching beneath their booted feet. She finds herself mesmerised by them for a moment – her polkadot wellies and his green dinosaur ones, perfectly synchronised and in time with each other. Looking back, she smiles at the sight of their footprints, barely visible, but there nonetheless. It reminds her that she will never be truly alone in the world as long as she has her son by her side.

The school looms ahead of them before he answers.

“I don’t want presents for Christmas mummy,” he murmurs, squeezing her fingers tight.

Surprised, she doesn’t respond immediately as she wonders if she’s heard him right.

“I just want my family back mummy, is that okay?”

The words settle like lead in her stomach and she feels something in her chest constrict and tighten, forcing the air from her lungs unexpectedly. She stops walking.

“Johnny,” she begins, unsurprised by the tremble in her voice, “that’s not really something Santa can do sweetheart. He… well… he delivers toys my darling, not people.”

Johnny looks at her thoughtfully for a moment, his little eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Other children and their parents pass them as they make their way towards the playground gate just ahead, and she pulls him gently to the wall so that they’re not in the way.

“Can I ask Santa for a ticket so we can go home then?” he asks then, and his eyes glisten with so much hope that Vanessa finds she can’t bring herself to disappoint him.

“We’ll see,” she whispers instead – the coward’s response, often used by parents who want to say no but also want to avoid the tantrum that they know that word will cause.

His grin is instantaneous as he wraps his arms around her and squeezes her hard. Bending down, she kisses his forehead.

“Come on Johnny, or we’ll be late.”

At the classroom door, Johnny smiles shyly at the teacher who welcomes him warmly.

“I probably won’t be back after Christmas Miss,” he tells her proudly, and Vanessa feels yet another little piece of her heart get chipped away as she realises how devastated he’s going to be when she finally tells him the truth. That they can’t go home yet. That she isn’t ready.

Her tears feel like ice against her cheeks as she walks home alone.


End file.
